


Anger and an Apology

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, the angry customer au nobody wanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 07:48:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16990941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Dakota owns a little independent coffee shop. Cavendish finds a hair in his sandwich.





	Anger and an Apology

**Author's Note:**

> Where did this come from???? Nobody knows

“I demand to speak to your supervisor!”

Dakota hears the angry British timbre above the gentle bustle of the shop, and he winces slightly before straightening up and putting on his best Manager Face. It’s been a busy morning so far, but there haven’t been any _incidents._ He should’ve known something was going to happen, but he’d been optimistic, especially since his most incident-prone barista was currently on vacation.

He makes his way over to the table and lays a gentle hand on Zack’s shoulder. He doesn’t miss the relieved look his young employee throws him.

“Is there a problem, sir?” he asks, too-cordial. The man glares at him from his seat at one of the tables against the wall, looking absolutely enraged.

“I should think so!” he snaps out. He points down to the plate in front of him. “There’s a _hair_ in my sandwich!”

Oh, _boy._ Dakota has to bite the inside of his cheek to resist the urge to laugh. It’s not often he gets pompous businessmen like this in his little family-and-friend coffeeshop. The man, grey-haired and stuffy in his green three-piece suit, only continues to glare as Dakota gathers his wits for a response.

He pats Zack’s shoulder, first. “Why don’t you take your break?” he offers, and Zack glances nervously towards the offending customer before nodding.

“Thanks, Dakota,” he says quietly, and Dakota smiles stiffly at him before looking back to the customer as Zack scampers off.

“I’m sure it was just a simple mistake,” Dakota says, gesturing to the plate. The man’s face gets impossibly redder. “Why don’t I get you another sandwich, on the hou—“

“And what if there’s a hair in _that_ one?” the man snaps, shoving the plate towards Dakota. “This is ridiculously outrageous. If I weren’t so kind, I’d think you did this on _purpose_!”

Dakota’s mouth drops open; he can’t help it. “Sir—“

“You saw who I was when I came in, heard my name when I ordered. You thought it would be _funny_ , to humiliate such an auspicious lawyer as myself.” The man seems to be really going, now, and Dakota… has no idea what he’s talking about. “Oh, yes, put a hair in his food! I’m sure you have a _great supply_ in a place like this!”

“A _place like this_?” Dakota asks incredulously. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s more than a little aware that he shouldn’t be encouraging this. This man is _obviously_ crazy. If anything, Dakota should’ve sent Zack to call the police.

The man waves his arm about vaguely. “Small and… _independent,”_ he spits out. Despite himself, Dakota snorts. The man’s gaze snaps to him, anger clear on his face. “Do you think this is _funny?”_

“No, no, of course not,” Dakota tries to placate. This _is_ his business, after all. He has to do his best to save face, even in the event of stuffy, angry, crazy lawyers. “Look, man. I’ll get you another sandwich and I’ll make sure your next coffee’s on the house, alright? Get you a little voucher and everything.”

The man seems to consider this, and then sits back in his chair. “Fine. But if there’s another hair, I won’t hesitate to—“

“Don’t worry about it,” Dakota interrupts. He picks the plate up and lifts it to his eyes, squinting until he sees the hair the man had to have been talking about. Without hesitation, he plucks it out. The hair is short, shorter than his own, and—

“Oh, that is _disgusting_ —“ the man begins, cutting himself off as Dakota hums a little sound. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” Dakota turns, positive that the look on his face will give him away. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, you—“ Dakota glances over his shoulder to see the man scrambling out of his chair. “You made a noise. What was _so funny?_ ”

Dakota takes a deep breath in an attempt to keep himself from snapping. “Nothin’, sir. If you’ll excuse me—“

“You _made_ a _noise_!” the man snaps, and if they hadn’t already caught the attention of everyone else in the shop, they sure would now. Dakota grits his teeth and then turns back around to face the customer, features schooled into a smile that was just a little too _full-of-hatred_ to be real.

“The hair is yours, that’s all,” he states. “Just thought that was funny.”

The man splutters, face growing bright red once more. He snatches the plate from Dakota, staring down at it in disbelief. The hair is on top of the bread, now, short and grey and shiny, and very slowly, the man looks up to see Dakota still smiling at him.

“I’ll go get you that new sandwich,” Dakota says, when he really means to say _fuck you._ The man swallows hard.

“That… won’t be necessary,” he says faintly. He hands the plate back to Dakota, who accepts it with no small amount of amusement. Without another word, the man turns and leaves the shop.

* * *

Milo’s return to work is only slightly less eventful that Dakota fears it will be. Don’t get him wrong; he loves the kid like a son. The whole ‘Murphy’s Law’ thing just gets chaotic in the kitchen, that’s all.

His first day back brings an entire sack of coffee beans down from a shelf behind the counter to burst and sends beans flying everywhere into the furthest corners of the shop. Dakota handles it with as much grace as he can and sets to cleaning up, with Milo behind the counter and himself out on the floor.

The shop is fairly dead by eleven, having reached the lull where the regular college students were already in classes and the regular working class people were already at work. Dakota is sweeping some beans out from underneath a table when a pair of brown-loafered feet startle him.

“Erm… Excuse me,” a familiar voice says, and Dakota nearly smacks his head on the bottom of the table as he attempts to scooch out from underneath it.

For all the man’s bluster before, Dakota had been fairly sure the strange, green-suited man wouldn’t be back. He sure does hate to be wrong.

“Milo, go take your break,” he calls immediately towards the counter. Milo’s head pops up.

“I’ve only been here an hour, Dakota,” he reminds him, and then smiles wide at the man standing beside a still-kneeling Dakota. “Oh! Hi, Mister Cavendish!”

Dakota frowns. ‘Mister Cavendish’ waves weakly at Milo with his free hand. “Hello, Murphy. Staying out of trouble?”

Milo laughs. “Only as much as I can,” he replies, and then ducks down behind the counter again, presumably in search of an elusive, hard-to-reach bean.

Cavendish rubs the back of his neck awkwardly before offering it to Dakota. Dakota accepts the help gingerly, eying Cavendish faintly suspiciously.

“I wanted to apologise,” Cavendish says sheepishly in an undertone. His face isn’t as red as it was the last time he’d been in the shop, but his cheeks are tinged pink with what Dakota can only assume is embarrassment. “I acted… rather egregiously when I was here previously, and my accusations were not only unfounded, but also cruel and nonsensical.” He holds out a box of chocolate, which, Dakota finally registers, was why he’d only had one free hand. “I am terribly sorry for making a scene… and for insulting your establishment the way I did. You seem to run a sound business, and I had no right to act the way I did.”

Dakota reaches out to accept the chocolates, gaze flicking over the box curiously. It’s an expensive brand; he’s never actually had the money to toss at it before, so he can’t deny that he’s excited to try them. When he looks back up at Cavendish, it’s to find the man looking at him with a hopeful expression.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

Dakota has seen his fair share of angry customers. He’s dealt with them, placated them, sent them on their way. Not _once_ has anyone ever come back to apologise. And with chocolates, no less!

“You’re forgiven, man.” Dakota sets the chocolates down on the table, and then holds out a hand. “The name’s Dakota, by the way.”

“Balthazar Cavendish,” the man replies, shaking his hand firmly. “I don’t suppose I could get a cup of coffee for the road?” he asks almost shyly when Dakota releases his hand. Dakota laughs.

“Yeah, head over to the counter. Milo’ll get you rung up.”

At the sound of his name, Milo pops back up from the floor. “Yes!” he says, and grins at Cavendish, who smiles back at him. His genuine smile is… nice, Dakota thinks to himself. Much nicer than his angry face.

“What’ll it be, Mister Cavendish?” Milo asks. Dakota can’t hear Cavendish’s answer, as he’s still speaking in a low tone, but he watches from back underneath the table as Milo rings him up and gets to work making a drink.

Dakota loses track of Cavendish as he focuses in on cleaning up the spilled beans, so it isn’t until Milo bounces over to him after Cavendish has apparently left that Dakota even realises he’s gone.

“I didn’t know you knew Mister Cavendish,” Milo says, sweeping a bean up deftly from beside Dakota’s foot.

“ _Know_ is a strong word,” Dakota says with a shrug. “What’s your deal with him, kid?”

“Oh. He’s my neighbour,” Milo replies. “He’s kinda grumpy when you first talk to him, but he’s pretty nice. He’s a lawyer!”

Dakota huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I know, kid.” The bell above the door jingles, and they both turn as an older woman steps inside. “Why don’t you go take your break, eh? I got this one.”

“Alright. Thanks, Dakota.” Milo grins, and Dakota grins back before getting up and brushing himself off. He snags the box of chocolates before returning to the counter, and after he pours the older woman her black coffee, he tears the box open and pops one of the candies in his mouth.

 _Mmm._ Quality chocolates right there. Dakota glances in the direction of the breakroom, lost in thought. Once he runs out of these, he miiight just have to ask Milo to pester his neighbour for more.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments are love! 
> 
> Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans


End file.
